


A Preoccupation

by Clare_Hope



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cats, M/M, References to Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 05:02:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19222141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clare_Hope/pseuds/Clare_Hope
Summary: In which Aziraphale accidentally acquires two kittens and Crowley commits the sin of Envy.





	A Preoccupation

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea why I chose to write this as my first Good Omens fic, but I had fun and it doesn't really mean anything. Enjoy!

To tell the truth, Aziraphale had always been more of a dog person. A dog angel? Dog being? Well, in any case, he had generally preferred dogs over cats. He loved all of God's creations, of course, but there was something about a dog's energy and undying loyalty that he just adored. He had watched as the humans first befriended the wolves who would slink around their campfires and taken their scraps of meat, eventually providing help hunting and allowing themselves to be harnessed to sleds in exchange for food and warmth and companionship.

He hadn't really noticed when the cats started sleeping inside the humans' homes, keeping mice away from stores of grains. The sleek little predators sort of crept up on humanity in the unlikeliest of ways. In truth, they domesticated themselves--multiple times, in multiple places across the globe. And when they started purring for the humans and sleeping in their laps and mewing at them like kittens, Aziraphale still didn't pay much attention to them. He didn't see what the big fuss was, really, although it did bring him a certain amount of happiness to see the humans love anything as intensely as they loved their little felines. Anything that increased the amount of love in the world was a good thing in Aziraphale's books.

The streets of London had been overrun by stray cats for a very long time. They took care of themselves for the most part, and there were always humans willing to put out food for them in exchange for keeping the rats and mice away. In the couple of years since the averted Apocalypse, the number of cats had slowly dwindled because of an increased awareness of the benefit that trapping and fixing the little animals had on the population. Fewer cats were dying in the cold, starving, or getting hit by cars, and there were still plenty of cats to keep their prey species in check.

Aziraphale was not thinking about cats as he wandered the snowy streets a few blocks away from his bookstore. He was listening to a pair of young women having a friendly bicker about whether or not they had enough Channukah candles at home to last them all eight nights, and a little boy begging his mother to let him stay out in the snow and play a little longer, and a man talking on the phone to his sister about their plans to travel back to Wales to their father's house for New Year's Eve. And as he listened to all of the beautiful humans talking about their beautifully human things, he heard something else echo out into the dim winter night.

" _ Mew! Mew! _ "

A thin, pitiful caterwaul reached his angelic ears. The snow crunching under his feet, Aziraphale found himself stepping into a narrow alleyway between an artisanal candle shop and a brand new fast food restaurant. Behind the dumpster, in a little cardboard box, something tiny was wriggling.

" _ Mew! _ "

"Let there be light," Aziraphale murmured, and a little ball of white light hung in the air over the box. "Oh...oh, dear."

There were two kittens in the box. Only one of them was moving. He reached down and touched the still kitten's head. He didn't feel much life there, but there was just enough that he could expend some energy and perform a small miracle to keep the little thing's heart going. It let out a squeak.

"Do you two have a mother?" he asked helplessly. "Well, it isn't as if you can answer me. But if you do have a mother, she clearly hasn't been able to take very good care of you. Dear me, this winter is certainly not conducive to raising kittens outdoors…" Aziraphale couldn't bear the thought of leaving the kittens here to freeze to death. He also didn't like the idea of the mother cat coming home to find her two babies gone...but if he left them, she would be coming back to find her two babies dead.

Determined, Aziraphale scooped one kitten up with each hand and tucked them inside of his jacket. He walked briskly back to his bookshop. "I believe all of the animal shelters in the area are closed at this time of night," he informed the kittens. "So I shall have to make do. Ah, here we are." 

The bell jangled softly as he walked into the warm store. He greeted his books but did not stop until he was up the stairs and in the tiny flat above the shop. He had a bed, which he rarely used, a closet with just a few items of clothes hanging in it, a shelf holding some old bottles of wine, and a comfortable reading chair. The angel sat down in the chair and opened up his jacket, letting the two kittens spill out onto his lap. Both of them were mewing and squeaking indignantly.

"Hush, now, little ones. You're quite safe." He put his finger on the head of the one who hadn't been entirely alive earlier. It was smaller than its sibling by almost half, its grey and white fur patchy and dirty. "Now, what in Heaven's name does one do with a pair of starving kittens? Ah...I believe one must feed them with bottles. Rather like a human infant, I assume, though perhaps smaller bottles. You don't seem  _ too _ young...your eyes are open and not all blue...and this little one would be walking about quite well if he wasn't so hungry and cold. He? She? I don't know. I doubt a cat minds much either way what someone calls it." 

He had miracled up two bottles of what he hoped was an acceptable kitten formula and was holding one in each hand. Both kittens had latched on and were making quite a mess of their faces. The formula coated their whiskers and made one of them sneeze. "God bless you," he told the kitten seriously.

When the kittens seemed done eating for now, Aziraphale had a warm cushion appear for them. He placed the kittens down on it and watched them curl up around each other. Both of them were vibrating softly.

"I suppose I can see why the humans are so drawn to you," Aziraphale admitted. "Now, in all my books, I must have something about proper care for kittens. If you will remain there, I will pop down into the shop and find it."

There didn't seem much of a danger of the kittens going anywhere. They were fast asleep, still purring. So Aziraphale found a book on raising kittens and returned to the armchair to read it thoroughly.  _ Of course, this is only so I can take care of them tonight, _ he told himself.  _ Tomorrow I will see where the nearest animal shelter with a vacancy is. _

As it turned out, every animal shelter within a ten-mile radius was completely overflowing with stray cats that had been rescued from the cold snap. The very kind lady who was in charge of the last one that Aziraphale visited apologized profusely.

"I really am sorry, sir, but we just don't have enough space for two more kittens. Have you checked with--"

"This is the seventh shelter I've been to this morning," Aziraphale said, not at all unkindly.

"We're already giving as many to our foster families as we can. It's just that not many people are willing to foster these days. Too much time commitment, and everyone has work. Nobody wants to wake up every three hours to feed kittens," she lamented.

Aziraphale stood up a little straighter. "Madam, if I were to receive instructions, I believe I could take care of these two on my own," he found himself saying, completely unintentionally.

Her eyes shone.

An hour later, Aziraphale was sitting on the floor in his flat, watching the two kittens sleep. They had perked up remarkably well since last night. That might have had something to do with Aziraphale performing a few more minor miracles to cure them of their fleas and respiratory infections.

_ Oh, what have I gotten myself into? _ he thought to himself.

But after the next week or so, the two were really starting to grow on him. In a literal way, because they both nearly doubled their size, but in a figurative way as well. He looked forward to hearing their contented purrs, let them sleep in his lap, and stroked their soft fur with great fondness. In all that time, he didn't bother to open the bookshop. He rather lost track of time.

Then someone was ringing the bell at the door incessantly. Aziraphale pursed his lips in irritation. He finally lifted the larger kitten off his lap (it had been determined that the larger one was a female and the smaller one a male) and went downstairs when it became clear that the bell-ringing was not going to stop.

A pair of snakey eyes glared at him over the top of some round sunglasses. "We had lunch plans," Crowley said. "Three hours ago."

"Oh, indeed we did."

"You stood me up," stated Crowley. He didn't sound really angry, only a bit confused. There might even have been some concern hidden away in his sarcastic voice.

Aziraphale winced. "It was not my intention, my dear, I apologize."

"And what exactly were your intentions? Did something prevent you from showing up, or at least letting me know that you wouldn't be there so I wasn't sitting there all alone like an idiot?" Crowley wanted to know.

"Ah, well,  _ yes _ , although I should have remembered. I've had a distraction, you might say. A preoccupation." Aziraphale glanced up towards the stairs. "Indeed, something rather odd and...unexpected, for me. I'm sorry I forgot about lunch. May I make it up to you by inviting you inside?"

Crowley accepted his offer and stepped into the bookstore. The door shut behind him without prompting; it was well-trained by now. "Alright, I'll bite. What  _ odd and unexpected _ thing has you so preoccupied?"

"Come upstairs and see! Oh, I do hope you like them," Aziraphale said anxiously. 

" _ Them _ ?" Crowley followed him up the stairs. "What do you mean,  _ them _ ?"

Aziraphale beamed and stepped aside to reveal the kittens, asleep in a cat bed on top of his own bed. "Ta-da!"

Crowley stared. "Are those  _ cats _ ?"

"Well, they're not chickens," Aziraphale giggled.

"I didn't know you liked cats."

"I love all of God's creatures! And I found the poor little things out in the snow last week, one of them was nearly dead and the other probably wouldn't have lasted long, so I just had to take them somewhere warm." Aziraphale went over to the bed and reached towards the kittens, intending to pick one up.

"Ah, be better if you didn't," Crowley said. He sounded uncomfortable.

Concerned, Aziraphale looked back at him.

Crowley cleared his throats. "Cats, y'know...don't like snakes. Probably don't much like demons, either, they were supposed to ward off evil spirits in Egypt and whatnot."

"Oh! Oh, well, don't be silly. They're  _ my _ kittens," said Aziraphale.

"So?"

"So, they're  _ my _ kittens!"

"Angel, I don't see how that's relev--"

"Well, I'm not  _ supposed _ to like demons, and I don't. Other than you. I'm sure my kittens will make the same exception!" He touched Crowley's arm warmly.

With a sputter, Crowley said, "That is...just like you. You think that just 'cause you're odd enough to befriend a demon, anyone else can get over their prejudice."

"Crowley, dear. We're talking about  _ cats _ . Just trust me, I'm sure they'll like you." Aziraphale picked up the smaller of the two kittens. "Look, little one, this is my nice friend Crowley. He doesn't like it when I call him nice, but he's really just a big softie."

"Don't insult me," Crowley said. He watched the cat apprehensively, seemingly waiting for it to hiss or lash out at him. But it didn't do either. It mewed loudly and, staring right at him, began to purr.

"See! He likes you!" Aziraphale said delightedly. “Here, hold him!”

“I’m a demon, I don’t hold kittens!” Crowley tried to protest. Aziraphale put the cat in his hands anyway. “And what am I supposed to do with this?”

“He likes having his ears scratched.”

“Oh, for Hell’s sake.”

Aziraphale smiled, watching Crowley awkwardly pat the kitten’s head. "I'm so glad you two are getting along," he said, picking up the other cat and petting her.

"Uh-huh," Crowley said flatly.

"I'm thinking about letting them be my bookshop cats when they're older. Humans love little bookshop cats."

"Do they, now?"

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Aziraphale nodded. "Yes, cats in shops. All the rage."

"So you're planning on  _ keeping _ them?" Crowley clarified. He placed the kitten Aziraphale had handed him back down onto the bed.

"I wasn't...at first," Aziraphale faltered. "But I think I love them more than I had intended to."

"Why am I not surprised?" muttered Crowley. "What are their names, then?"

Aziraphale opened his mouth, then promptly closed it again.

"They don't have  _ names _ ?"

"I've been busy!" Aziraphale defended. "I didn't even think about that."

"And you've had them for a week?"

"Yes, well, I don't know anything about naming kittens and I haven't had the time to do research." He went back to petting the kitten.

"Research?" Crowley said incredulously. "Angel, they're  _ cats _ . They don't care if their names are well-researched."

Aziraphale took a moment's pause to help the smaller kitten climb into the cat bed. "I suppose if they're going to be bookstore cats, they ought to have bookish names. Shakespeare had some excellent names in his plays...he really was a remarkable fellow, wasn't he?"

"He was that. Well, what names are you going to pick?"

Picking up the female kitten, Aziraphale said, "Nothing too sad, I think." He gazed at her dark green eyes set against dark brown, white, and orange splotched fur.

"Hamlet is out of the question then," Crowley joked.

"Mm, indeed. This little one has very long legs, don't you think?"

"Honestly, I couldn't say."

"Well, she seems tall next to her brother. I'll call her Rosalind," Aziraphale decided.

"Wasn't that the girl Romeo was hung up on before he met Juliet?" Crowley asked.

"No, no, that was Rosa _ line _ . Rosalind is from  _ As You Like It _ ." Aziraphale kissed Rosalind on the head and put her down to pick up her brother. "And this one was nearly dead when I found him, but he's grown into quite the mischievous little thing. I'll call him Robin Goodfellow, then, like the fairy Puck from Midsummer."

"That was a weird one. How much do you think ol' Billy Shakes had been drinking before coming up with that idea, hm? A man with the head of a donkey who the fairy queen instantly falls in love with? Really, very weird."

"Hello, Robin," Aziraphale said fondly, ignoring Crowley's rambling.

"And the donkey-head man's name is Bottom! Bottom! Why? Nobody's name is Bottom. Why was his name Bottom?"

"Robin and Rosie," cooed Aziraphale. "Do you like your names? Such good kittens. I'm sure our old friend William would have loved to know that I named you after his characters."

"And I'm sure the cats are glad you didn't name either of them  _ Bottom _ ."

"Well, it's time to get you two some food." Aziraphale prepared the wet food and formula mixture that the woman from the shelter had recommended for weaning the kittens.

Crowley stood with his arms crossed, watching Aziraphale work. He had a slightly pouty expression on his face.

Continuing to ignore him until the kittens had eaten and were asleep again, Aziraphale couldn't help but be amused by Crowley's obvious jealousy. "Crowley, dear, please contain your envy--it is a sin, you know."

"Excuse me?  _ Envy? _ Of what?"

"I'll still have plenty of time for you," Aziraphale assured him. "And I am sorry that I forgot about lunch. Allow me to make it up to you?"

It was almost comical how quickly the irritation and jealousy melted off of the demon. "What do you have in mind?" he asked.

"I'm sure that the kittens will be alright for a few hours by themselves." Aziraphale miracled up a playpen on the floor with some cat toys and water, then carefully picked up the cat bed, kittens and all, and placed it down onto the ground. "How about dinner?"

Crowley grinned and offered Aziraphale his arm. "That will be acceptable, angel. And you're paying the bill."

**Author's Note:**

> I may include Rosie and Robin in future fics just because I like cats and I have some Ideas about them. Thanks for reading! I can be found on Tumblr at @hopefulqueer. --Martin


End file.
